Sirius and the Art of Motorcycle Repair
by Rea
Summary: With broken trust, looming NEWTs, darkening days and a rusted motorcycle, Sirius learns that the cycle you're working on is really a cycle called 'yourself.' Ch. 7! By, Jove, she updated!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series or any of the characters that appear in it. I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun. Plus it fills the time  
  
Sirius and the Art of Motorcycle Repair  
  
Prologue  
  
Sirius watched the empty reflective glass in growing irritation. What was  
  
taking him so long? "James," he repeated then hastily added, "James Potter!" A  
  
moment passed...then the mirror filled with the image of two bleary eyes  
  
squinting out from a mop of unruly hair.  
  
"Whad?" mumbled James, clearly struggling to stay awake.  
  
Sirius starred at him in surprise. "You're sleeping? At this hour?"  
  
"Sirius, it's," he glanced off to the side, "1 am in the bloody morning  
  
and I'm not out with you or anyone else. Of COURSE I'm asleep."  
  
"Lily wouldn't go out with you again?"  
  
"I'm not talking about that," James said, his voice beginning to show  
  
signs of irritation.  
  
"Yeah, if I'd been trying to get a girl to go out with me unsuccessfully  
  
for 2 years, I wouldn't want to talk about it either," Sirius confided.  
  
"Pad foot, it's 3AM IN THE MORNING!"  
  
"You said it was 2 AM!"  
  
"WHATEVER BLOODY TIME IT IS, WILL YOU GET TO THE POINT?"  
  
Sirius blanched and decided that toying with James anymore tonight would  
  
probably not be the best idea. He got to the point. "All right, don't get your  
  
knickers in a bunch. You'll never guess what I picked up today."  
  
"I'm leaving-"  
  
"No, Prongs, wait!" James gave him a weary look but didn't move. "I was  
  
downstairs chatting with my landlord about muggle forms of transportation-for  
  
that essay we have to write, you know-and he offered to sell me his motorcycle."  
  
Sirius grinned at James wildly waiting for the enthusiastic congratulations.  
  
When none came, he added, "So I bought it. At a very good price."  
  
James squinted at Sirius for a moment before responding with an  
  
unenthusiastic, "Oh. Is that all, then?"  
  
"IS THAT ALL? James, I cannot believe you! Don't you understand what this  
  
means? I have a muggle motorcycle and one of the most secure places in the world  
  
to modify it in. Imagine what we could do with it." Now a smile began to form on  
  
James' lips. "Yes, I can only imagine. Now I think I will dream about my  
  
imaginations until we get to Hogwarts." He started to turn away but stopped when  
  
Sirius snorted.  
  
"As though I would wait until then."  
  
"What do you mean? You just said yourself that Hogwarts would be the best  
  
place to modify it."  
  
"When I'm away from the flat, yes, it will be. I've just owled Moony and  
  
Wormtail, inviting them to stay over until the start of term." Sirius rubbed his  
  
hands together in satisfaction. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Tomorrow?"  
  
"Okay, fine. Today."  
  
"Isn't that a bit soon?"  
  
Sirius shrugged. "Your point?"  
  
"We haven't even gotten our Hogwarts letters yet."  
  
"Have your parents forward it to you here. Besides, your mummy will  
  
probably buy all of your stuff for you anyway." Sirius paused after this line to  
  
let James mull it over. If he pushed too hard, too soon, James would say no. But  
  
with a little quiet persuasion...he did.  
  
"Look, I'll talk to them tomorrow about it and see if I can come some time  
  
this week but sooner just isn't going to work."  
  
"Good. Beddie-bye, now, Jamie."  
  
"Shut up, Padfoot," and he was gone. Sirius sat there for a moment,  
  
looking at the empty glass, wondering if it would be worth his while to try and  
  
contact anyone again. His mouth broke open in a yawn as he stood up stiffly. He  
  
looked around his flat once more and at his brand new, beautiful motorcycle then  
  
went to bed. 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
Moony-  
  
Where are you? Padfoot says he owled you twice-and I witnessed the second one so  
  
I know you know you're invited. Wormtail arrived just last week and the full  
  
moon passed three days since. You've no more excuses. Either you arrive within  
  
two days of this letter's arrival or we will come over and bring you to London  
  
ourselves. Tube, floo powder, broomsticks or illegal apparition-we don't care  
  
how you get here as long as you do.  
  
(Signed)  
  
Prongs (and Padfoot and Wormtail)

* * *

Remus was the last to arrive at Sirius' flat. He floo'd in to Sirius'  
  
fireplace two days before the start of term. He hadn't really meant to put it  
  
off so long but one thing led to another, which led to another. First the full  
  
moon-he always felt poorly before it and after it, then his mother started to  
  
fret. "How do we know you'll be safe? Up there in London?" She had asked him  
  
when he had sat down to breakfast after the full moon.  
  
"I'll be fine, Mum. James and Sirius and Peter will all be there.  
  
"I know that. It's just that you're not indestructible no matter what you  
  
lot think and there have been so many attacks lately."  
  
Remus' father had nodded at this. "It is dangerous out there, Remus. Even  
  
in London."  
  
"Come on," he pleaded. "It's less than a week before term. Do you really  
  
want them owling everyday wondering where I am? They agreed to wait until three  
  
days after the full moon and now they've got to wait until this Dark Lord gets  
  
tired of killing people?"  
  
Mrs. Lupin shook her head. "No, it's just-I want you and your friends to  
  
be careful. I can't remember the last time the Ministry set up precautions as  
  
tight around it as they have now. And after what happened at school last year-"  
  
Remus gave his mother a sharp look. "That won't happen again, I promise."  
  
She hadn't finished though. "I know you won't but things are riskier  
  
nowadays and I while both your father and I want you to spend time with your  
  
friends, we want you to be careful. You can't trust everyone."  
  
Remus opened his mouth to try and defend his friends but Mr. Lupin beat  
  
him to it.  
  
"We know-they've done well keeping your secret and you're always careful  
  
but sometimes you're not as careful as you ought to be." He smiled. "I know-- I  
  
was young once too." He set the newspaper aside. "You can go as soon as your  
  
strength is back.  
  
Maybe they had known that such a promise would only speed Remus' recovery  
  
or maybe the full moon had been an easy one. In any case, he was better in  
  
record time.  
  
As soon as the spinning slowed down he pushed out his trunk and stumbled,  
  
soot-covered, into a small room made even smaller by the presence of three  
  
teenaged young men sprawled out on the floor and on top of the couch, all sound  
  
asleep. Quickly, he caught his trunk so it wouldn't fall on someone and set it  
  
in the closest empty space.  
  
"That's it, Moony," spoke a sleepy voice, "block our only path to the loo.  
  
We're not going anyway anywhere."  
  
Remus raised his eyebrows at the figure on the couch. He glanced at Sirius  
  
and Peter on the floor. "No, I guess not, James. How'd you manage to get the  
  
couch?"  
  
James smiled and tried to sit up. "Head Boy's privilege." He leaned over  
  
and rummaged through a pile of things on the floor then threw something at  
  
Remus. His letter and badge, Remus saw. "Ah, congratulations."  
  
"Thanks. It's nice to hear somebody say it," James replied.  
  
Peter protested from the floor, "I said congratulations."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Really it's Sirius who made all the fuss. Said he'd  
  
never met a-"  
  
"Single mischief maker who went on to become a head boy," Sirius filled  
  
in, also sitting up. "If the truth must be told, I was rooting for you," he  
  
pointed a shaky finger at Remus. "After all, head boy, prefect, they're all the  
  
same, aren't they? He besides," he burped, "you're the same one."  
  
Remus had no idea what he was talking about but decided to play along.  
  
"Yes, absolutely."  
  
"Just more proof Dumbledore must be off his rocker," James added. He got  
  
up off the couch and wobbly walked over towards the kitchen. "Padfoot, I mean  
  
it, you should really buy some food, mate. We can't all live on food from the  
  
Leaky Cauldron and second rate muggle restaurants."  
  
"What's so bad about them? They're good! As the sign said, 'more punch for  
  
your pound. Pretty clever, eh? 'Pounds' are what they call their money," he  
  
explained to the coffee table. "Besides, as I have clearly stated, the dining  
  
room-area-place-thing is otherwise occupied."  
  
Remus turned in the direction Sirius waved his arm and stared. He highly  
  
doubted the dining room had seen much dining at all since Sirius had moved in.  
  
All of it was covered with mechanical parts, a few books, tools, rusted bits,  
  
and cans, all of it leading up to the cornucopia of-  
  
He was speechless. As he stood there like a man suffering under a severe  
  
silencing charm, Sirius appeared at his side. "Yes, that's her. Isn't she  
  
lovely? I've already put a lot of work into her, as you can tell, but there's a  
  
ways to go yet." Remus could only nod in agreement and wonder to himself what on  
  
Earth Sirius saw. To him, it was a rusted combination of various rusty metal  
  
parts on two flat tires-both of which had been removed so the whole mess was  
  
lying on its side on top of the dining room table.  
  
Peter laughed nervously in the background then groaned in pain. "My head,  
  
my head." Amongst the dirty rags and odds and ends were empty bottles of fire  
  
whisky.  
  
"Yes," Remus agreed, in a voice teaming with disbelief, "it has a lot of  
  
potential."

* * *

James assured Remus that they hadn't really planned on sleeping all day.  
  
"It's just that we stayed up a little too late last night-"  
  
"Drank a bit more than we meant to last night," added Sirius.  
  
"Urrggghh, the firewhisky," moaned Peter, "So much firewhisky."  
  
Remus looked at his unusually pale, greenish tinted friend. "I thought you  
  
didn't like firewhisky."  
  
"I don't-not any more---not ever."  
  
"Here, have some crackers," Sirius tossed him a box and Peter took one out  
  
and nibbled on it nervously.  
  
"If you'll believe it, Moony, those crackers make up the entire contents  
  
of his pantry. Crackers." James opened a cabinet, shut it and moved on to  
  
another, his stomach rumbling loudly. "I've been here two weeks and all I've  
  
seen in this flat are crackers."  
  
"And firewhisky," Sirius added, pulling a sweater over his head after  
  
sniffing it carefully. "But I think we're out of that now too."  
  
"What do you eat?" Remus had known Sirius and James long enough to know  
  
that they had to have some sort of food supply.  
  
"Out," Peter said, now sawing away at his third cracker.  
  
"Everyday?"  
  
"Not everyday. My mum sends me packages every once in a while," James  
  
answered from the kitchen. "Been here about a month and you know how she  
  
worries. Then again, she probably knows Sirius well enough by know to assume he  
  
won't go grocery shopping."  
  
"And let's face it: I'm the bad son she never had," Sirius said with a  
  
smile. "She's probably thrilled I got my own flat so I don't come by corrupting  
  
her baby."  
  
James snorted. "Worried is more like it. You have no idea how much she  
  
pestered me to talk you out of getting your own flat. 'It's too dangerous and  
  
he's only barely reached his majority,' you know."  
  
Remus nodded. "My parents said the same thing about me coming to stay here  
  
for a few days before term."  
  
"Is that why you're so late?"  
  
He hesitated. That wasn't the only reason and neither was the full moon.  
  
It was more the fact that it was Sirius' flat. He'd told his parents exactly  
  
what had happened last year with Snape, Sirius and himself. To say they were  
  
less than pleased would be a gross understatement. They weren't openly furious  
  
about it either. The Lupins simply didn't get angry-at least not in front of  
  
him. "At least," his father had said, "no one else will know. That's the  
  
important thing: that you finish your education." Remus' eyes flickered briefly  
  
over to where Sirius was casually vanishing firewhisky bottles. "Yeah, that and  
  
other stuff," he answered finally. Their eyes met and then the both of them  
  
quickly looked away.  
  
"My mother was a bit worried about it, too," Peter spoke up, "but I told  
  
her what you guys said-that if I wasn't safe in London with three of the best  
  
students at Hogwarts, I wouldn't be safe at home either. That convinced her."  
  
James smiled at Remus. "Yeah, even Wormtail had you beat this time, Remus.  
  
He's been here two weeks. So," he clapped his hands together and stood up.  
  
"Shall we get some breakfast then head to Diagon Alley?"  
  
"Haven't you bought your school things yet?" Remus asked in surprise.  
  
"Oh, James' mummy bought his already but Peter and I have been putting it  
  
off. You know, maybe if we wait long enough there won't be any left."  
  
"Wishful thinking, Padfoot."  
  
"Perhaps, but that is not the only reason we're going there, eh, James?"  
  
James' cheeks reddened a bit. "No," he replied casually, "someone needs to  
  
look at books on motorcycles or at least that's what he said earlier."  
  
"Hah!" Sirius laughed harshly. "And you haven't been casually wondering  
  
what charming female student is head girl this year."  
  
Remus smiled. "Lily seemed pretty confidant about her chances last year,"  
  
he told James.  
  
Sirius feigned puzzlement. "Who said anything about Lily?"  
  
Peter frowned. "Isn't Lily the one James is all-?"  
  
"Yes, Wormtail!" James cut him off.  
  
"Prongs has become very sensitive about this issue in the past year,"  
  
Sirius informed them.  
  
"I have not." This denial did not stop him from quickly changing the  
  
subject, however. "I agree with Padfoot though, it's surprising that you didn't  
  
become Head Boy, Remus.  
  
"No, not really."  
  
"But you were a prefect."  
  
He shrugged, noncommittally. "Sometimes prefects don't make good Head  
  
Boys. People would get suspicious if the Head Boy disappeared once a month  
  
whereas a prefect, well, there are more than enough of them to go around." Remus  
  
could have said more but this was getting dangerously close to uncomfortable  
  
territory. "So, are we going to Diagon Alley today or not?"  
  
"Right, yes, Diagon Alley." Sirius stood up and ran his hand through his  
  
hair. "Shall we floo or apparate to the Leaky Cauldron?"  
  
"Floo," Peter responded glumly. "I haven't got my apparating license yet." 


	3. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I added another section onto Chapter 1 where it seemed to fit better so be sure to go back and read it if you haven't already.

Chapter 2

The trip to Diagon Alley was uneventful, to say the least. James did his best to surreptitiously keep an eye open for Lily (he had even snuck his Head Boy badge into his pocket in case he met her and needed to prove it. Sirius pretended not to notice.) But his efforts were in vain. "She must have gotten her books weeks ago," he told Sirius as they searched through the stacks of books at Flourish and Blotts.

"Hmmm," Sirius answered distractedly as he browsed through the piles of books.

"I mean, WEEKS ago. She's diligent like that. Maybe Moony ran into her. I should have asked him." Remus and Peter had stayed back to pick up the rest of Peter's potion supplies. It had taken longer than they'd expected at the alchemist's and Sirius and quickly grown impatient. After all, it was clear that the real reason they were there was for the motorcycle books, not school supplies. He and James had quickly decided to split up and head over to the bookstore in search of useful motorcycle information. So far, Sirius was doing all the searching while James flipped idly through books and continued to agonize.

"Of course, if I think about it, the number of days since we got our letters versus the number of days any of us have spent in Diagon Alley makes the odds of any of us running into her very slim—"

Sirius looked up at him irritably. "Prongs, are you going to help me look for books on motorcycles or what?"

"I'm helping."

"No you're not. You're daydreaming."

"How long have we been looking in here? We haven't found a single book. Don't you already have a paragraph on motorcycles written for your essay, anyway?"

"Forget the essay. I finished it weeks ago and, you may not have noticed, but this section of muggle transportation is huge. We've hardly looked through half of it."

"Maybe we could summon some books." James pulled out his wand.

"What? If you summon a book in here, it'll be your death."

"Padfoot, really. Have some faith. I'm not going to just summon any old book. I am going to summon books on motorcycles. That should eliminate the majority of them. Acc—"

"No luck?" Remus appeared around the banister with Peter and his supplies in tow.

"No," Sirius said irritably, "and Prongs here isn't being much help. All he's come up with is one hair-brained idea after another."

"Well, if you're having that much trouble, why don't you just summon the books you're looking for?" Remus suggested, eliciting a smirk from James.

"Yeah, why don't you just summon them?" With a mistrusting look, Sirius pulled out his own wand. "Accio motorcycle books!" They glanced eagerly around at the books to see if any had moved. None had. They waited a while longer.

"Maybe they're in a different part of the store?" Peter suggested.

"No, this is the section on muggle transportation," Sirius said slowly and carefully, lest someone else question his judgment. "This is where they should be." He jabbed his wand at Peter and suddenly, a book jumped out of a shelf and landed on the floor by his feet. Startled, he jumped out of the way, making a perfect opening for James to pick it up for him.

" 'Muggle Transportation: From the Wheel to the Automobile: A Lesson in Absurdism,'" he read aloud before tossing it over to Sirius. "It looks like this one's the only one, mate."

Sirius took it. "One is better than none but even so, we better look else where." Swiping his hair out of his face, he leaped over the banister and left the rest of them to follow.

By the time they caught up with him, he was already well on his way out the door clutching his newly paper-wrapped book. Peter ran heavily up to his side. "Where elsewhere?"

Sirius stopped, causing Peter to pass him. "Why, a muggle bookstore, of course."

Remus couldn't remember a single time in his life when he had been in a muggle bookstore. All the muggle books he needed he could get from his father and, besides, a bookstore was a bookstore, wasn't it? Piles of books everywhere, dust choking up the air, shelves rising up to the ceiling stacked with volumes large and small, old and new. So when they walked into Waterstone's and a wave of cold, dustless air hit them causing Peter to reel backwards into him, it was all Remus could do to stop himself from falling back in surprise. Carefully, he pushed Peter ahead again. "It smells in here," Peter explained. Remus sniffed the air carefully.

"It certainly smells different."

"What you smell," James explained in his most professional accent, "is the complete lack of dust in the air."

"No dust?"

"No dust. These muggles have developed some sort of way to filter out dust from the air. It's amazing what you learn in muggle studies." Remus sighed. Not this again. They always enjoyed teasing him on his lack of muggle knowledge, despite the fact he was the only one of them with any meaningful muggle ancestry.

"We should really give them more credit," Sirius agreed. "Now, if you would mind moving, Peter, you're blocking the entrance."

"Oh," Peter quickly jumped out of the way, letting Remus through as well as a few irritated muggle women who appeared to have been cursed with the evil eye.

Not only was the air clean, but so was the building. Shiny floors, carpeted off to the sides, tall shelves with well-organized books lined up on them—no piles sitting around anywhere. Well-dressed people were standing on ladders putting books on the shelves while a few were behind tables. All throughout the store, muggles were roaming around looking at books. A few were riding stairs to the upper levels.

The four of them stood there, off to the side, trying to figure out exactly where they should start looking. "I don't suppose it's organized the same way as Flourish and Blotts," Remus wondered out loud.

"I don't know," Sirius replied, "But the odds of there being a section labeled 'muggle transportation' seem slim. I see 'fiction', 'non-fiction'—"

"May I help you, Gentlemen?" A young woman with a beehive hairdo was standing behind them, eyeing their clothes critically. Sirius whirled around and smiled at her broadly. "You work at this establishment?" He asked smoothly and when she nodded he continued, "Excellent. Would you please show us where the books on motorcycles and motorcycle repair are?" That was Sirius—never ill at ease in any situation for long.

The young woman sighed. "More of you? Yes, go look on the second floor in the automotive section." She turned to go but James stopped her.

"The second floor?" She gave him and the hand he placed on her arm an irritated look. He quickly removed it.

"Yes," she snapped. "Take the escalator up to the second floor and then go over to the automotive section."

"Motorcycles are in with the cars?" Sirius asked in disbelief. The young woman started to address him, then shook her head and walked away, muttering something about impolite young men and philosophy majors.

"Good job, Sirius," James said. "Now whom are we supposed to talk to if we can't find them?"

"But she said they were in with the cars! Doesn't she realize how different motorcycles are from cars? I spent a significant portion on my essay addressing that very topic."

"It's just an organizational scheme," Remus explained, "I'm fairly certain they weren't trying to slight motorcycles in any way. Shall we go upstairs and look?" He gestured towards the moving stairs.

Instead of immediately going up them, they stood there and stared at them for a moment. The concept of moving stairs was not new to any of them. They had all paid a visit to Dumbledore's office at one time or another. These however—

"Do you think it will pull us under?" Peter asked timidly.

"Perhaps. I'm sure it's happened before," came Sirius' conspiratorial whisper.

"Thanks, Padfoot. You're a reassurance to us all," James said, "Now, who wants to go first?"

"Who votes that they Head Boy go first?" Sirius asked, raising his hand. Peter joined him. Remus merely smiled. James scowled. "Fine. I'll go first." He moved to step onto the escalator while muttering for all to hear, "And I thought we were all Gryffindors here." He stepped onto the escalator—they waited for a second until James began to rise up and he turned around and looked at them expectantly. A little sheepishly, the rest of them piled on.

"I must say, Prongs, that I'm glad to see you're brave enough to bear the burden of Head Boy. I wasn't sure," Sirius said loudly.

"Indeed."

The escalator rounded the first floor and they carefully disembarked, stumbling around on the platform and then got back on the second flight of escalators. The second floor slowly appeared in their sight and from what they could see, it was devoid of all human life. A few signs hung over neatly staked bookshelves announcing things like, "home improvement," "aviation," and then finally "automotive." Books with pictures of cars ruled this domain and Remus was pleased to find that things seemed more purposely organized in this part of the muggle bookstore than in its magical counterpart.

"There," Sirius pointed. "That's where she said they'd be."

Remus' love of the muggle organizational system was short lived when he discovered that better segmentation didn't actually make books on motorcycles any easier to find. They had split up, divided the section into fourths but so far, he had found nothing. He idly wandered down the isle, skimming through titles and taking out any he thought might have something. A glance through the index would invariable tell him otherwise and he'd put it back and head to the next. He was beginning to wonder if looking through meaningless books was some sort of punishment for arriving so late when he reached the end of the aisle and stopped dead in his tracks. He had found it, the exact book that Sirius had been looking for. Smiling, he took one copy from the display and headed over to where Sirius was.

Sirius was flipping through a book on motor engines and set it in a pile next to him when Remus approached him. Eyeing the large pile of books on the floor, Remus said dryly, "I see you've had some luck."

"Some," Sirius answered, continuing to scan through the books. "To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure which will be useful and which won't. I'll just take whatever sounds relevant."

"In that case, I think I've found something that fits in nicely." He held out the book he had found and Sirius took it curiously.

"Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Repair," he read out loud. "What's Zen?"

Remus shrugged. "A motorcycle repair method, perhaps?"

"Here are some more, Sirius." Remus looked over Sirius shoulder and saw Peter approaching with a large stack of books in his arms.

"Good, good, just put them on the floor. I'll look through them in a minute." Peter nodded and headed back to his section.

"You aren't really going to buy all of these books, are you?"

It was Sirius' turn to shrug. "Why not? As long as they're relevant."

"How are you going to fit them all into your trunk?"

"Same as always: I'll just expand it some more. A spell here, a spell there. I just hop I've exchanged enough gold to play for them all." He flipped through the book to the front page and read for a second. "A motorcycle trip, eh? That could be useful, should I ever plan on going anywhere." He threw it down into the pile by his feet and looked at the large number of books in it. "Say, you want to look through these and separate the relevant from the irrelevant? Wormtail's been bringing me all these books and it's a little tiresome to constantly stop, go through them all and then send him away again.

Remus thought about going back to scan through the rest of the shelves and answered, "No problem."

A few minutes later, James came around the shelves holding two books and stopped when he saw the pile of books in front of Remus. "Well, he began, "I don't think I've found as many books as Moony but I did find a couple I think will be useful."

"These aren't mine," Remus told him quickly. "Peter brought them. I'm just sorting them."

"Oh," he shook his head. "Anyway, here's one called Motorcycle Engines A to Z, and A Collector's Guide to the Matchless Silver Arrow. You do have a Matchless Silver Arrow, don't you?"

"Yes, that's exactly it!" Sirius said excitedly and took the books. He gave a low whistle. "So that's what she's supposed to look like? Even more beautiful than I thought." He turned the book over so that Remus could see the black and white picture of a clean, well cared for motorcycle that resembled Sirius' only in the way house-elves resemble trolls. "Are you sure it's a silver arrow?" He asked carefully.

"It must clean up well," James suggested.

"It must," Sirius agreed. "Anyway, these should do the trick along with a few owners manuals," he kicked a couple of books out of the pile, "So after we get this mess picked up we should be free to go."

Meanwhile, Peter reappeared in the aisle. "I wasn't sure, Sirius, if these were what you wanted so I brought them, too…"

Remus sighed. Perhaps they should have kept him there, sorting through the pile instead of hauling even more books into it.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Their biggest concern while preparing for the new school year now revolved around how to pack and successfully smuggle the motorcycle into Hogwarts. Sirius' trunk had been expanded several times throughout his Hogwarts career so expanding it further came as naturally to them. But, even so, there is only so far a wizard can expand a trunk before it is simply not going to fit school things, extra books, gags and a motorcycle in it. But James and Sirius weren't among Hogwarts' top students for no reason. Leafing through their memories along with several old school textbooks led them to a very nearly perfect solution: a shrinking solution. A proper shrinking solution would only take slightly over an hour to brew and could be used to shrink the motorcycle down to a more manageable size. Remus suggested they let Peter brew it since he needed the practice anyway and after a few false starts, he produced a nearly perfect shrinking solution, which they enthusiastically applied all over the motorcycle and then sat down to wait for it to take effect. They waited. And waited. Remus watched the clock. James coughed. Peter fidgeted while Sirius watched the motorcycle intently.

"Nothing's happening!" Sirius finally burst out in frustration. "Did you make the potion right, Peter?"

Peter glanced at Remus uncertainly. "I think so…"

"He did. We made sure with every step," Remus confirmed. "Potions may not be my forte but this potion isn't too bad."

Sirius frowned and Remus could tell he was hesitant to press the issue much further with him. He didn't mind so much but their friendship had been rather polite as of late and Remus wasn't sure whose fault that was entirely. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact you have to swallow potions," James suggested. "Now that I think about it, I don't know of a single time we have used a potion externally. Some of them may be bad to touch but most of them are swallowed."

"You could have thought of that before and saved us the time," Sirius groused.

"Sorry." James raised his wand and approached the motorcycle. "Transfiguration time, Padfoot!" He announced cheerfully. Sirius smiled and did the same. Remus had the utmost respect for their transfiguration skills; very few wizards could become animagi and even fewer managed it by their fifth year. He waited as they discussed what to transform it into and then finally, a few waves of the wand, prods, and spell casting, a simple object appeared on the ground: a pincushion.

"No sense in overdoing it," James consoled Sirius as he picked is very unimpressive motorcycle up.

"I know, but a pincushion? I haven't transfigured a pincushion since…what, first, second year?"

"I'm relieved to see you're still in practice then. After all, you never know when you'll need an emergency pin cushion."

"Oh, yes. I'm sure there will be several instances in my life when something tragic will happen, all for want of a pincushion," Sirius deadpanned as he threw his motorcycle-cum-pincushion inside one of his robes and then shut his trunk.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

According to Sirius' plans, the motorcycle was to be accorded its very own special spot in the dormitory---right in between all of their beds to ensure easy access. Unfortunately, he failed to consider that this meant all of them would have to sacrifice their space to accommodate it.

"Look, Sirius, Peter is crammed right up against the wall," Remus protested.

"He's small."

"My bed is about two feet away from his now!"

"You've been rooming together for 6 years already!"

"Our trunks are very nearly touching!"

"Moony, what's the big deal here? I've moved over James' and my beds, too, so it's not like I'm just picking on you! Besides, Peter doesn't mind, do you, Peter?"

Peter mumbled something that sounded like, "not too much."

"See? Some people don't mind making sacrifices for the common good."

"I wasn't aware your motorcycle went under the category of 'common good,'" Remus replied dryly as James entered the dorm. He wore his Head Boy badge on his chest and a befuddled look on his face. Remus restrained a smile, knowing full well where the look came from but Sirius more than made up for his control. He grinned at James and gave him a low wolf whistle. "Been busy with Head Boy activities, eh?" He asked suggestively.

"Oh yeah," James answered wearily. "Bloody first years, though I can't say the rest of the years are much better." He moved towards his bed and ran smack into it. He stared at it for a moment with a confused look on his face. "Why is my bed in front of the door?"

Sirius gave him a puzzled look. "It's not in front of the door. It's next to it, like it's always been. So how was—"

"Yes, next to the door as in a comfortable distance away from it but now it's right in front of it."

"Maybe the room shrunk over the holidays," Sirius suggested.

James considered this. "Yes, I suppose that is entirely possible."

Remus could keep silent no longer. "It's also entirely possible and a lot more probable that someone thought it would be a good idea to move all the beds over ten feet to make more room for his motorcycle."

"Yes, that is also—" He turned his gaze over to the middle of the room and saw the large empty space now between Remus' and Sirius' beds. "You weren't theorizing," he concluded with a disappointed sound in his voice.

"I was theorizing," Sirius protested.

"No, you were lying. Big difference. Can't we put your motorcycle somewhere else, like in a secret passageway?"

Sirius frowned. "Absolutely not. If it's not in the dormitory, I won't have easy access to it, I'll never be able to work on it. Which means that none of us will experience the ultimate thrill of riding on a motorcycle."

It was James' turn to frown. "Ultimate thrill? Padfoot, I'm afraid to disappoint you but if motorcycles were anywhere near an 'ultimate thrill' we would all fly them instead of broomsticks."

"I can't help the prejudices of wizarding society," Sirius explained with a helpless tone as he reached into his trunk and pulled out the red, fluffy pin cushion from his pocket and sat it down in the middle of the space he'd cleared for it. "Shall we detransfigure it together?" Peter made an uncertain sound and Sirius clarified. "I mean, one of us could certainly detransfigure it alone but it's a lot more difficult to turn a pin cushion into a motorcycle than the other way around. Besides, all of us remember different things about the motorcycle," his eyes glazed over slightly.

Remus thought of its pitiful, rusted state and couldn't help but agree. "So this way we can make sure we get back all of the motorcycle."

"Why not just transfigure the motorcycle to picture the one you want?" Peter suggested.

"Because, Wormtail, that would take away all the challenge," Sirius explained impatiently. "If I wanted a perfect motorcycle, I would have just bought one." Peter nodded. "All right. Wands ready?" Everyone pulled out their wands and began to detrasfigure the bike.

Detransifguration was a risky process and Remus was always surprised when it came out properly, especially when his friends transfigured themselves. As the motorcycle began to expand bit-by-bit, as they each remembered new details about the bike, he felt himself relax and remember the rustiness, the dirt, and the pride in Sirius' voice and let the magic do its work.

Sirius' cry jolted him out of his memories. "Stop! Peter, stop it! That's too big!" Remus opened his eyes and saw that the motorcycle had been more or less completely transfigured but Peter either remembered it to be a lot bigger than it was or had lost control completely.

"I can't!" He cried, "I'm not even doing the spell anymore. It just keeps expanding!" James jumped in front of him and, doing some quick spell work, stopped the motorcycle's expansion. Acting just as quickly, Sirius threw a blanket over it to mask its gargantuan size. "I think that's enough for one night." Peter looked at him apologetically.

"I didn't mean—"

"No, it's fine." His voice was curt and at a look from James he softened it a little. "But with class and everything tomorrow, I reckon we'd better just go to bed." Peter still looked a little uneasy but the four of them went to bed nonetheless and soon, save for some whispering between James and Sirius, all was quiet in the tower dormitory.

Years ago, Remus always used to wonder what they would talk about so late at night, what plans they had that were so secret only the two of them could know about them. But now, he found that he very little cared. Sirius and James were a pair with a friendship so tight that they felt no need to explain many of its inner workings to anyone else. James trusted Sirius implicitly and if Remus was a little annoyed he forgave Sirius so willingly after he told Snape about the Shrieking Shack, it was only because of his lack of understanding. After all, James could hardly cut off his wand hand for cursing his other—that would be wholly counterproductive.

For all he knew, maybe James had been angry with Sirius. At least angry enough to go down to the shack and pull Snape back---too late to prevent Snape from finding out the truth but not too late to stop something far worse from happening. Remus rolled over in his bed, feeling the same queasy feeling he got before the full moons. Thoughts of returning from a transformation with human blood in his mouth and on his hands or, even worse, Snape as a werewolf, were enough to make him sick. He hated the thought that part of him, no matter how deeply hidden at times, always wanted nothing more than to devour others. James at least understood that and had risked expulsion to keep it from happening, even if it was Snape.

Now Sirius, on the other hand, would he have done the same? To him it seemed the only good Snape was a dead Snape. If he was more remorseful, was it because he had failed and now lacked everyone's faith?

He glanced at Peter's bed, barely visible in the darkness. Peter was the lucky one. He never got himself stuck in anything too deeply and Remus could only imagine how difficult the incident had been on him, especially the icy silences. Remus sighed and closed his eyes tighter, blocking out his sight. It was useless to speculate on such things so late at night, anyway.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"So, how did it go? You haven't told us anything yet," Sirius hissed at James.

"How did what go? You've never told me what you meant," James returned.

"You know what I meant. Lily, Head Girl; you, Head Boy—do you want me to draw you a diagram?"

"Of what? Our meeting on the train? Her pursing her lips when she saw I was Head Boy and not Remus? Trust me, mate, this was not one of my shining moments."

"So what's the game plan?"

James covered his face with his arm. "there is no game plan. I have no plan and I'm not going to come up with one either."

"So you've given up?" Sirius asked him then quickly went on. "Good. This way you'll have more time to help with the motorcycle."

"No!" Sirius perked his head up and James backtracked. "I mean, I don't mind helping you with the motorbike but I haven't given up. Maybe I'll just let her set the pace—no pressure, no rush."

"And there's no harm in the fact that you get to spend a few nights every week strolling around the castle." Even in the dark, Sirius could see James' grin.

"No, there's no harm in that at all."

"I didn't think there was. When shall I ask her to go on a date with you?"

"You won't." His response was firm and Sirius felt his smile slide off his face. "This is our last year at Hogwarts. My last opportunity to make an impression that could lead to any sort of interaction later in life that won't be construed as stalking."

"Why don't you just ask some other girl out, then? I'm sure there are loads who would love to go out with the Head Boy." Sirius felt a mischevious spark run through him. "I bet there are some Slytherin girls you could meet up with."

"Ugh—thank you, Sirius. You've put me completely off my feed."

"Sorry. I thought you wanted to treat Slytherins more as equals."

"You're remembering wrong. What I said was that Slytherins are also humans and," he slowed his speech to enunciate every word clearly, "it might be wise to treat one of them with a certain amount of deference."

Sirius sneered. "Snivellous and deference are not words I often hear in the same sentence."

"Sirius, you know Dumbledore is the only reason Snape hasn't told the whole school already."

"That and the fact he likes having something to hold over our heads," Sirius said disgustedly. "The best thing that could happen is at this point would be his complete elimination."

"Sirius, that's not funny."

"Oh, come on now. Admit it: He—is—a—threat." Sirius jabbed his finger in the air with each word. "As long as he's around, there is a chance—a strong one, mind you,--that he will blab Remus' secret and very possibly yours."

"Mine?" James' voice was confused.

"Well, all of ours."

"We don't know for sure how much he saw that night," James said irritably. "So what would you have done? A few drops of Veritaserum in his pumpkin juice and then we interrogate him in the common room before obliviating his memory?"

"The Veritaserum and oblivating parts don't sound too bad but there's no way in my parents' house I'd let him in the Gryffindor common room."

"Sirius, really now. Could you just let go of your dislike for Snivel—Snape for one second and think about the fact that you OWE Remus this? If you can't then—then maybe you are in the wrong house." He finished quietly, as though this might soften his harsh words but Sirius heard each and every one of them. For a moment neither of them said anything. Then, as calmly as he could manage, Sirius responded, "All right. I will try—_try_—to be nice; no, no I take that back. I will be as—no, that's not it either. Civil, that's it. I will be as _civil _towards Snivellous as I possibly can. Is that good enough, Prongs?"

"Well," James relented, "it'll do. I can't very well ask you to sell you soul, can I?" They sniggered. "Just be as polite to him in front of Remus as you can. He gets really nervous around you cause he's not sure what you're going to do next."

"Are any of us?" Sirius joked. "Look, I told you this before: I didn't think he'd go down that far into the tunnel. Slytherins aren't known for their bravery."

"I know that, Padfoot. But I don't think Moony knows that so you better try to get it across. I swear, sometimes the tension between you two gets so thick, I could transfigure it."

Sirius snorted. "This is the new and improved, modest James Potter?"

"Hah. I wish. Good night, Padfoot."

"G'night, Prongs."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Remember," Professor Flitwick called after them as they left charms class, "not _one _inch under five feet and I will be measuring!"

"Five feet," groused Sirius as he shoved some spare quills into his pocket. "He could at least assign a length more comparable to his height."

Peter still looked shell-shocked and responded in a slightly absent voice, "It's the NEWTs. They say the seventh year is the hardest year at Hogwarts."

"Is there an easy year at Hogwarts?" Remus asked lightly as he tried to secure his permanently overweight rucksack onto his frame.

"First year wasn't so bad," James commented. "At ;east we still had plenty of secret passages to find."

"Oh yeah—remember the time we found the one behind the mirror?" Sirius' eyes shown with the memory. "Took all the fun out of the third years visit first visit to Hogsmeade for us to have Honeyduke's and Zonko's products before they did." James and Sirius laughed at the memory.

"Oh, and remember the time we jumped out from the behind the statue of the one-eyed witch just as Peter was walking by?" Sirius went on, trying to give Peter a sympathetic look, but not quite succeeding. "He was so scared he nearly wet himself."

"I did not." Peter protested with all the dignity a seventeen year old could muster when reminded of pranks played on him when he was younger.

"You did, too, Wormtail. You don't have to deny it. At least you can say you've advanced since then, though I imagine you'll still be asking for help on that five foot essay," he ended with his voice taking on a tone of complete disgust. James rolled his eyes.

"It's not like we don't work together, anyway, Padfoot. We all tend to get help from each other. Besides, if anyone had aright to be upset about it, it would be Remus—he is the one who usually helps Peter."

Remus shrugged nonchalantly—his mind had not been following the conversation too closely, but now that it involved him, he responded, "if you need help, just ask me in advance—not the night before it's due, as some tend to." He cast a look over at Sirius and James, who both smiled.

"Hey, it's not our fault you always finish your essays early," James tried to console him.

"But with FIVE FEET," Sirius added, "you'll be writing just as long and hard as the rest of us mere mortals. How is Flitwick even going to read these? They're nearly twice as long as he is tall."

"Then be glad he didn't assign his students essays twice the size of their heights," a new voice suggested behind them. "Or worse, the size of their egos. You'd never be done."

Remus smiled and was not surprised to see Lily Evans scurrying along behind them when he turned. "Why Evans! How dare you--," James gave Sirius a sharp look "—call yourself egotistic! That could simply not be farther from the truth."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You think you're charming. You're not." Sirius grinned.

"What, then, you want help on the essay, too? I'm sure James wouldn't mind helping you out on one of these nights."

"Sorry, Black, but I did not become Head Girl because I got help from others. But, incidentally, we need to patrol this Friday and Saturday nights. You will be there, right, Potter?"

"Er—" James looked at Remus and Remus wished he hadn't. Friday night was the full moon and the thought of transforming with only Sirius there to control him was not a comforting one.

"You can't shirk all of your Head Boy responsibilities, you know," Lily went on accusingly.

"Lily is right, James. It is important—more than homework." He emphasized the last part.

"Homework?" Lily snorted. "You don't do homework on Friday nights."

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," James answered sharply and Lily fell silent for a moment. Then—"Fine. If you want, you can bring it with you—who cares?"

James gave Remus an apologetic look before nodding. "It's a date," he affirmed and then winced.

"Yes, I bet you wish it were. Now, would you four mind letting me through? You block the whole hall." They parted and Lily swept through, giving Remus a smile, which he returned. "Do you know what aspects you're going to cover in your essay yet?"

"No, not quite. I haven't had time to think of them yet."

"Oh, too bad…some of them are quite fascinating!"

"I'll keep that in mind," he said amicably and then she was gone down the hall.

"I see your plan is working well, Prongs," Sirius said sarcastically, once she was out of earshot and James was more than happy to ignore him.

"Are you sure it doesn't matter, Moony?" James asked.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"With only Padfoot and Wormtail there to control you while marauding?"

Now came the difficult part and Remus began in the most casual voice he could muster. "Actually, I was thinking that with all the homework we've been having lately, it would be better to just cancel marauding all together."

"WHAT?" The world exploded out of Sirius' mouth. The other two just stared at Remus with shocked looks on their faces. "_Cancel_ marauding? We haven't cancelled marauding _once_ since fifth year, not even when Filch filched our map."

Peter muttered something under his breath.

"What was that, Wormtail?" Sirius asked and Peter muttered it a bit louder.

"Ah, that's right—we did miss it one time at the end of sixth year, didn't we? Still, that's a pretty good record. Why ruin it?"

Remus searched for an answer, then shrugged helplessly. "Right. Why ruin it?"

"ARE YOU SURE?" James questioned them again. "You will be fine?"

"_Yes_, Prongs—honestly, did someone hit you with a Mollycoddling charm last class? It's fine."

"Mollycoddle Charm?" Peter piped up. "There isn't one of those, is there?"

"Well, why don't you just ask Moony to leaf through his massive Tomb of All Charms Known to Wizardry?" Sirius teased and Remus patted his bad then frowned.

"I would check it but I think I left it the Charms classroom."

James' widened his eyes dramatically. "Better go get it, or else Sirius might have a heart attack if he doesn't have the exact charm he needs for his motorcycle, or Flitwick might borrow it and you'd never see it again."

"Or worse, we'll all have to use it as assigned reading," Peter groaned, but Remus just smiled.

"I'm sure it's still there; I'll just swing back there and meet you all back in Gryffindor Tower." They waved him away and Remus turned to head back through the castle, bumping through groups of chattering Hufflepuffs and flocks of Ravenclaws, whose large backpacks made even the smallest of them resemble a good-sized Slytherin candidate. Speaking of Slytherins…

"The pull of the moon dragging you backwards, Lupin?" Snape now stood before him, a sneer gathering on the corner of his lips.

"No, not really," he answered evenly.

Snape sniveled and Remus did his best to not think of their nickname for him and to concentrate instead on the fact that this one person had the ability to make his everyday at Hogwarts a living hell—or worse, he could make it his last day. Maybe some casual conversation would change the way Snape was eyeing him suspiciously? He certainly wasn't showing any signs of moving.

"On your way to charms?" Nothing. Remus continued on, "Because Flitwick is assigning a murderous essay." It wasn't working. Really, he hadn't expected it to. Snape watched him carefully and then looked up and down the hall, his eyes peering out from behind his greasy locks in a piercing gaze. "Where is your pack, Lupin?"

"Not any of your business is it, Snape?"

"If they are out here, plotting anything—" As luck would have it, James came striding around the corner at that very moment, his Head Boy badge shining on his chest and a whistle on his lips. He broke stride for a second when he saw Snape standing there in the hall, blocking Remus' path. "Hello, Remus, Snape," he nodded his head casually at both of them. "Any luck finding the book?" He asked Remus, pointedly ignoring Snape.

"I haven't yet made it to the Charms classroom."

"Ah. Then, if you'll excuse us, Snape, we'll be on our way." Snape gave him a disgusted look and for a few minutes, they stared at each other, neither willing to give up their place. James reached into his left hand pocket. Snape started. James paused. A group of Slytherins headed down the corridor and Snape moved into their ranks. Remus breathed a sigh of relief. James pulled his hand out of his pocket and revealed not a wand, but a gold galleon, which he proceeded to weave through his fingers. "You weren't reaching for your wand?"

"No," James grinned at him, "I keep my wand in my right pocket. I'm right handed. You know that."

Remus smiled. "Good thing Snape didn't."

"He was always a little blind, don't you think?" He paused, and then continued in a conspiratorial tone, "Maybe his nose gets in the way and blocks his vision."

"Right." They reached the Charms room and it only took Remus a few seconds to walk in there, find the book, exchange a few polite words with Professor Flitwick and get back to James.

The journey back to Gryffindor Tower was uneventful, but Remus still found himself scanning the faces of passing Slytherins, looking for any signs that Snape might have revealed his secret.

"You know," James told him casually, "If you keep staring at them like that, they're going to give you dirty looks, simply because you're a Gryffindor. Then you'll take it the wrong way and spend the rest of the day hiding behind the curtains of your bed hating yourself."

Remus shrugged, not wanting to discuss it. "I still think we should be more careful."

"Around Snivellous you mean? He's not going to tell anyone."

"No, I don't mean _Snape_," He gave James a meaningful look.

"Ooh, don't worry, my lips are sealed. If Lily hasn't figured it out already—"

Remus' voice grew unintentionally sharp. "What do you mean if she doesn't know already?"

"Well, she's smart, Remus. If we figured it out after knowing you for two years, she's bound to figure it out eventually, especially since you two were prefects together."

"Has she said anything to you?"

"No, but—"

"Good. Don't give her any hints I don't care if we never go marauding again."

They reached the seventh year's dorm room and James pushed open the door. "Really, Mooney, does she strike you as the type that would blab secrets out all over Hogwarts? You've spent more time alone with her than I—"

"No fair!" Sirius' head popped up from behind his motorcycle. "No talking about any females without telling everyone whom you're talking about."

James ignored him. "Don't you think she's trustworthy? Snape I can understand you not trusting."

"Whoa, we've gone from female to Snape. I no longer want any part in the conversation." Sirius bent over and began talking to the space underneath one of the four-poster beds. "Have you found it yet, Wormtail?"

"Not quite," a muffled voice called out. "Oh, wait!" A dusty hand, then head, followed by dust-covered robes emerged out from underneath it. "Are these them?" Sirius took a few small items from his hands and looked them over critically, then sniffed them.

"No, but I think you have just found the most ancient Bertie Botts All-Flavor Beans that I have ever seen. They've gone grey and hard with age. If you never find the blots, I bet it wouldn't take much to transfigure these into some."

"You lost some bolts?" James asked Sirius, forgetting his previous conversation with Remus.

"Yeah, I reckoned it wouldn't be worth it to waste time waiting on you lot to get back with the Charms book, so I decided to get a head start and see how much I could get done with my own hands." He paused and flexed his grease smeared hands and dirty fingernails. "We really ought to give those Muggles more credit. They're willing to get absolutely filthy."

"And for what amounts to a completely outmoded form of travel, too. I'm telling you, Padfoot, you should just buy a broomstick."

Sirius snorted. "Right. If I wanted to be like every other typical Hogwarts student, I would have a broomstick. But this," he patted his motorbike lovingly, "this is different."

"Yes, so different, you might find yourself at a hearing in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"Nah, they're way too busy with more important things right now." Sirius averted his eyes, wiped his motorcycle down with a rag for a moment, and then blew some gunk off of it. "I saw in the Daily Prophet there had been another attack. Could you give me that lubrication charm again, Moony?"

Remus handed him the book. "Was it a wizarding family?"

Sirius shook his head and began to leaf through pages. "No, a Muggle one but there's plenty of evidence that points to it having been the work of a wizard. It's really not all that hard to narrow down, is it?"

James frowned deeply. "Did this family have any magical members? There have been a few—"

"I don't know." He said, now sounding irritated. "It might have been, like some of the others. Mainly I think they're hoping whoever it is that's doing this will get cold feet and stop with all the publicity."

"I've heard some things from my mum about who's doing it," Peter added.

"It's probably more than one person," Remus reminded him.

Sirius nodded. "For all we know, the whole of Slytherin is behind it." He, James and Peter sniggered. "Ah, ha! Here's the charm. It doesn't look too complicated. You found those bolts yet, Peter?"

Coughing, Peter crawled even farther under the bed. "Why don't you just summon them?" James asked Sirius.

"But he seemed so eager to help…" Peter emerged, clutching a few newly de-rusted bolts in his hand, which he eagerly gave to Sirius. Sirius smiled at them, happily then took up his wrench, screwed them on and sat back a bit to admire his one-wheeled motorbike. "Excellent."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

There she was walking straight ahead of them, her red hair cascading down her back and bouncing back and forth with every stride. He waited patiently for his trusty friend to say a good opening line for him, after which he would jump into the conversation without seeming too over eager. He looked over at him expectantly, but his friend seemed more preoccupied weaving his wand back and forth between his fingers and examining the stone castle walls. Glancing back and forth between one and the other, he knew he would have to start it all himself.

"Oy! Evans!" Lily turned around and as soon as she saw who was calling, a tired a weary look of resignation appeared on her face.

"What do you want, Sirius?"

James fumbled his wand and dropped it on the ground. As he bent over to pick it up, he hissed, "I'm going to kill you, Padfoot." Sirius ignored him.

"What do I want, Lily? Well, right now, I want nothing more than the pleasure of your conversation." He paused thoughtfully as the rest of his friends caught up with her. "That and perhaps a few answers to some questions that have been bothering me."

"Answers? To some questions?" She repeated.

"Why, Lily, are you a Ravenclaw in disguise? With questions like that, I wonder how Gryffindor got you!" He smiled at her winningly and when she glared at him, he added quickly, "Yes, just some answers."

"Fine, here they are: No, and no," then, she inexpicably gave James a disgusted look that promised to shrivel up any hopes he had of future questions as well and turned around to walk off. In desperation, Sirius shouted out, "Wait! Merlin's beard, Lily, all I wanted to know is exactly what Zen has to do with fixing motorcycles!"

She stopped dead in her tracks and peered back over her shoulder. "What?"

He reached into his bag and pulled out the book Remus had forced on him. "This book," he explained, "is filled with information about repairing motorcycles." She was still looking confused, so he added: "You know, they have two wheels, an engine…muggles ride them?"

"I know what motorbikes are," she looked at the book, then back at Sirius with disbelief written across her face. "You're reading _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_?"

"Yes, but I'm not entirely sure—"

She looked at James. "He's reading _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_?" James nodded numbly, clearly not sure what he should say. She examined the two of them carefully. "You do know that that is a Muggle book, right?"

"Well, of course it's a Muggle book, Lily. I bought it at a Muggle bookstore." Sirius' voice became irritated. He wanted to ask questions, not the other way around.

"You went to a Muggle bookstore."

"Yes."

"You took him to a Muggle bookstore?" She asked James.

"Yes, they do have those in London," He answered, having found his voice.

"Well, I just don't know what to say." Her voice now sounded bemused and then finally she said to James, "What are you doing this Friday?"

"Er—excuse me?"

"Friday? Are you busy?"

"No?"

"Well, you are now. You're taking me to Hogwarts." She smiled at him warmly—something Sirius had never thought he'd see happen. It wasn't until she had begun to walk away that James found his voice.

"But this Friday isn't a Hogsmeade weekend!"

"And the great James Potter doesn't know how to get to Hogsmeade secretly?" she called back to him, causing a very stupid looking grin to spread across James' face. He grinned at her, he grinned at his three friends and then slapped Sirius on the back. "Well don, Padfoot. Well done."

Sirius frowned and looked at the book in his hands. "It's all well and good for you," he muttered, but she didn't answer any of my questions. She's the only person I know with real Muggle experience."

"Ah, Padfoot, you can't always have everything you want," James consoled him.

"I'm sure James will ask her for you on Friday," Remus suggested and James looked at him like he was a lunatic.

"Or not. Discussing motorcycles with Lily? In Hogsmeade? When we could be snogging? We might as well do homework!"

"Not motorcycles: Zen!" Sirius insisted.

"That sounds even more dull."

"Yes and it's that dull topic that made Lily agree to go out with you. She must like it, since she doesn't like you."

James ignored him.


End file.
